Altered Emotions
by Sarcastic Realist
Summary: Every object persists in its state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it. [GCR]chapter five. COMPLETE!
1. Newton's First Law of Motion

**Altered Emotions**

_**Archive:**__** If someone would tell me what that means…  
Pairing: GC (No, I still don't 'ship them, this is completely for my wonderful fanfic reviewers)  
Spoilers: Yeah, I think so; just for season six, though  
Disclaimer: I do not own them, I never will. :bursts into sobs, then composes self: Sorry. It's kinda depressing sometimes.  
Rating: T for language, and cause I'm paranoid, maybe…  
A/N: This is for all the people that reviewed the other GC stories I've pulled out of absolutely nowhere. I am complying with one of their wishes and beginning this story. I have no idea how it will go or how it will end up (pairing-wise it'll definitely be GC) but other than that I don't know. It would mean a WHOLE lot if you would review and tell me how I'm doing for starters, and if it sucks, then I just plain won't continue. Thanks for taking the time to read my long and monotonous author's note, and again- PLEASE REVIEW!  
-Shay**_

**Prologue**

He didn't know how, he didn't know where, he didn't know why- hell, he didn't even know when. But he did. He fell in love with his best friend, Catherine Willows. She was strong, smart, dedicated, stubborn, caring, nosy, and passionate- everything that he loved; everything that he hated.

It had to be her.

Damn.

**I. Newton's First Law of Motion**

"_Every object persists in its state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it." ­_–Sir Isaac Newton

Gil Grissom was an analytical man. He liked to study things. He was methodical, logical, rational, consistent, steady. Dependability was a key factor in his life- he liked to be able to depend on certain people, and he wanted to be dependable himself. Not in a scary, stalker kind of way, but a reliable individual, of sorts.

It was not unusual for him to spend hours pondering simple problems, like which pen wrote smoother on his paper. In the end, it was never solved, and he got frustrated. Mysteries of life, the Universe, and why things were the way they were plagued him at night, haunting his dreams, refusing to let him sleep.

Then there was Catherine.

With Catherine, there were no mysteries, no secrets, no wondering, no 'what if?' There was always openness, honesty, sincerity. It had always been that way, up until now. Things were strained; they barely talked anymore.

He wanted to blame it all on Ecklie, that s.o.b. that split up their team and caused the tension between the new swing shift and night shifts. Nevertheless, he couldn't, because, well, that would be childish and immature. Also, deep down inside, he believed that it was truly his fault for not being a better supervisor.

And so he spent more time, berating himself and scolding himself and going over the last few years in his mind, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He thought about quitting, he really did. More than once, actually. But he never did. Time and again, he had questioned his decision on remaining at the Las Vegas Crime Lab a few years ago. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that this was his life, and he was choosing the way to live it the way he chose to live it. No one had the power to control his life except himself, and he had finally learned to accept that extraordinary fact. Extraordinary, that is, to himself. Everyone else thought he was experiencing some kind of mid-life crisis. He laughed inwardly at the comments he heard. The concept might have had some sort of basis if he had been younger than he was. But a man pushing fifty, in his opinion, was well past mid-life.

Now, stability was still an important part of his life; however, it was not as important as it was. It was part of his past, along with a lot of other things he didn't particularly care to discuss with people he knew. Although, he mused, he knew a number of people, he was close to few of them.

Again, there was Catherine.

She challenged him, queried him at every turn; yet she was always there to support him when he needed it. She brought energy to his dull life, she was his rainbow after a thunderstorm, she was fun to be around, and she knew when to be quiet- most of the time.

He chuckled. Of course. She was still a woman. That one piece of information evaded him every once in a while. Women liked to talk about feelings, he liked to talk about anything but. Women liked to go shopping, he preferred to stay home and read books on butterflies and cycles of growth. So they would work things out. Take turns. One day he would take her to a museum, another, she would teach him to dance. He would drag her along on five roller coasters within the time range of an hour and a half, and in return, she would pressure him and beg him until he would go shopping with her for a party.

Yes, Gil Grissom enjoyed stability, but every once and a while, he didn't mind a change of pace, even if it was with a certain woman named Catherine Willows.


	2. A Tarantula Named Catherine

Sorry for the wait. Thanks for the reviews, please keep 'em coming! Shay**  
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II. A Tarantula Named Catherine**

_Equilibrium- a state of mental and emotional balance; composure_

"C'mon, Cath, come to daddy… no, no, honey, don't go there… this way… OW!"

Catherine jerked her head away from the door as an expression of complete horror came over her face. _What the hell! _She put her ear to the door again, once more hearing Grissom… crooning?

"Nice and easy, girl, you can do it… slowly, don't rush it…"

_That's it. _Terrified of what she would find inside, Catherine bravely burst into her boss's office and- "Grissom what the HELL are you doing!" she yelled.

Grissom's head jerked up sheepishly, and he held up a too-large, brown, fuzzy tarantula (Catherine shivered) in his palm. "What? She got lost on the way to her cage," he explained, albeit embarrassedly.

Catherine just stared at him, and he fidgeted uncomfortably. "What?"

She shook her head. "Do you not think of the fact that anyone walking by might have misunderstood you?"

Without thinking, he replied, "what does it matter?"

Her jaw dropped. "What?"

He blushed.

_Grissom blushes?_

"Nevermind," he muttered, and carefully placed the tarantula in its habitat. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah…"

He looked up expectantly.

_She forgot. _"Uh… it's not important," she mumbled, and turned to leave. She stopped in the doorway when she heard his voice again, quieter this time. "What?"

"I said, breakfast later? My house, after shift."

She smiled. There was the Grissom she knew. "I'll be there."

**GC**

"Wow, someone's in a good mood today," Greg commented with a smirk on his face. "Either you've had too much coffee…" he tipped his head to one side and regarded her through narrowed brown eyes, "or you got laid. Which is it?"

Catherine tried to scowl at him but failed miserably. "Like I'd tell you."

"She got laid," Greg announced triumphantly, as if there was someone else in the break room other than the two of them. Catherine gave him an odd look, and was about to say something when Nick walked in. She groaned, dreading what was coming.

"Greg…"

"Who got laid?" Nick asked innocently, snatching a package of Greg's Blue Hawaiian coffee on the way to the cupboard.

"Catherine," Greg said casually, grabbing it back.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "I did not." She stood up, dumped the rest of her coffee in the sink, and set her mug on the counter beside it. "And just so you know…" she trailed off as she stopped in the doorway and both men ceased wrestling for the package of coffee to after her- waiting for some juicy piece of gossip, no doubt. "Grow up, guys."

"Aw, c'mon Cath," Nick complained. "You can't do that."

"Can, and am," she replied cheerfully, and sailed out the door, leaving two gaping men in her wake.

**GC**

She showed up half an hour after shift wearing jeans and carrying a latte.

He took one look at her and smirked. "Long night?"

She glared at him. "Don't start with me."

Not willing to bear the brunt of her testiness, he hid a grin and sat down on the couch, grabbing a bowl of popcorn as he did so. "Coming?"

She finished the latte and flopped down next to him, yawning. "Nothing with bugs?"

"Nothing with bugs," he confirmed, and pressed a button on the DVD remote. It was the beginning of the first scene before she glanced over at him.

"The Butterfly Effect? I didn't know you were an Ashton Kutcher fan."

He mock-scowled. "Oh, leave it be." She grinned and stole some popcorn.

"Whatever, Gil."

He flicked off the lamp on the coffee table for ambiance. "Shhh, it's starting." He hadn't seen this movie, and his almost childish excitement made her laugh.

**GC**

They were both asleep by the end of the movie. Catherine had shifted in her sleep; her head was now resting comfortably in Grissom's lap, and his head was resting against the back of the couch. She was still facing the t.v, and his arm was draped over her back, his fingers barely grazing her stomach.

He woke first. He smiled, then shook her shoulder gently, knowing they both needed their sleep, and his couch wasn't the best place to get it. "Cath."

She mumbled something unintelligible and stirred. "What?"

"Get up, my legs are asleep." Grissom tried to wiggle his toes; to no avail. "I can't feel my toes," he whispered.

Catherine giggled and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

Grissom consulted his watch. "Almost noon. You hungry?"

"Not as much as I am sleepy," she yawned.

He grinned. "You can sleep in the guest bed, if you want," he offered.

"Mmm…"

"I'll take that as a yes."


	3. A Man's Best Friend

**_A/N: Yay! Another chapter! Keep the reviews coming!_  
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**III. A Man's Best Friend**

"_Never doubt; never look back. That's how I live my life." –_Catherine Willows

"If a man's best friend is supposedly a dog;" Grissom mused as he twirled a pen between calloused fingers. "What's a woman's best friend? A cat?"

Catherine gave him an odd look. "Since when do you care" was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit down on it and changed her answer. "Diamonds," she stated simply, and then, "Why do you ask?"

Grissom frowned, brows furrowed in an expression of concentration. "That's what they say," he conceded, a wave of his hand supplying a definition of 'they', "but that's not what every woman wants, don't you think? Jewels were the last thing my mother wanted from my father." He shrugged, seemingly not hearing her last question.

"Okayyy… but why do you ask?" she repeated, studying him thoughtfully.

He pursed his lips. "I don't know."

"Gil, when was the last time you slept? I'm getting you coffee."

A scowl appeared on his face. "I'm fine. Sheesh."

It was all Catherine could do to hold back the bubble of laughter that rose up in her throat, and she clamped down on her tongue and swallowed hard. "Sheesh?"

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Grissom growled at her, and she burst out laughing. "And what the hell is so funny?"

Catherine flopped on her back on the couch by his desk, thankful that she wasn't wearing a skirt, and drew in a lungful of air. "You're so weird." She rolled her eyes back and caught his gaze out of the corner of his eye, tilting her chin up to see him more clearly.

"You sound like a thirteen year old girl complaining about a boy that likes her," he quipped with a smirk.

"Yeah," she shot back, grinning. "You would know."

"I resent that!"

She laughed again. "I'm sure you do, Gil, I'm sure you do." A quick puff of air aimed at her forehead blew her bangs out of her clear blue eyes, and when she looked at her watch she sat up. "Shift's almost over. You're not staying overtime again, are you?"

"What's stopping me?"

Catherine sighed. "Me."

"What a surprise."

"Misanthropist."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "That's mature."

"Oh, so we're talking mature now, huh?" Catherine grinned. "Somebody took too many cranky pills today, I think," she observed slyly.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he interrupted. "I'll go home and sleep, _mother._"

She smirked and stood up. "That's my good boy. See ya tomorrow, Gil." And with those parting words, she sailed out the door, barely missing the pillow he tossed at her on the way.

It hit the closed door with a thump.

**GC**

"Lindsay, can you get that?" Catherine yelled to her daughter, shoving a tray of cookies in the over and yanking glasses and plates out of the cupboard. Hurriedly, she pulled a frying pan off an element on the stove and placed it on a hot pad on the table. "And breakfast is ready," she added.

"Hello? Oh, hi Uncle Gil. She's making breakfast and chocolate chip cookies. Umm, yup, I think so. Hold on. Bye." Lindsay dumped her backpack by the front door and ran to the kitchen. "Mom, it's for you. It's Gil."

Catherine balanced the phone on her shoulder and lifted it to her ear, watching the blonde twelve year old help herself to some bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns that were on the table. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Why are you making cookies at seven in the morning?" he countered, letting her hear the humor in his tone.

"Because then I can get them done for Lindsay by the time she gets home, _and _I can sleep for the rest of the day. Now answer the question," she demanded. "And if you say 'I'm not tired,' I'll shoot you through the phone, I swear to god. And can you make it quick? I gotta drive her to school yet."

Grissom chuckled. "Never mind. I'll call you later."

"Thank you!" Catherine exclaimed in relief, and uttered a quick goodbye, pressing the power button on the cordless and tossing it on the couch. "How's breakfast?"

"Great. Thanks, Mom." Lindsay answered with a smile, finishing her glass of orange juice. "I'll be ready to go in twenty minutes. Is that okay?"

"Perfect. Can you clean up your dishes, please?"

"Aww, fine." Lindsay dumped her glass, fork, and plate in the sink and headed for the bathroom, and Catherine chewed on a slice of bacon.

"Guess I should get dressed," she muttered.

**GC**

Catherine was woken up two and a half hours later by the sound of the phone ringing. "Mmph."

"I'm sorry, I don't speak elephant" came an amused tone on the other end of the phone line. "You were asleep, weren't you?"

Catherine squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. "How'd you ever guess?"

"Get your cookies done?"

"Did you call for a reason? Cause if you didn't, I'm about two seconds away from hanging the phone up and killing you later at work. It took me forever to relax and fall asleep."

"I guess 'oops' doesn't cover it, then."

"Nope."

"Sorry?"

"Try again."

Grissom was silent for a while. "Diamonds?"

"Gil…"

"I figured it out, you know," he informed gleefully.

"And what's that?" Catherine muttered, quite eager to get off the phone.

"A woman's best friend is a mirror."

Catherine opened her eyes. "Are you insane? The perfect woman's mirror, maybe. Not even then. Number one- you're making the female species sound like evil bitches, and number two- they're technically our worst enemies. Way to go. Now are you done?"

Grissom heaved a dramatic sigh, earning a tiny laugh. "For you, I can be."

"You _called _me for me."

"Now who's being difficult?"

"Hanging up now…"

"Alright, I get it. Bye."


	4. Little Miss What?

**_Hey'all! Miss me? This is the second to last chapter._ **

**-**

**IV. Little Miss Tuffet… Muffet… uh… Puffet?**

"Something wrong, Gil?" Catherine inquired sweetly, fluttering into her friend's office. "Gil?" She bit back a laugh when she spotted Grissom with his forehead resting on the desk… fast asleep. "I'll come back," she whispered, even though she knew he couldn't hear her, and quietly closed the door behind her.

­­­­­**GC**

"Alright, Grissom, you gotta get up now; come on." A nudge to the entomologist's shoulder and he was wide awake.

"What? Huh? Cath, what is it? Did I miss something?"

Catherine shook her head and laughed. "No, you goon. I figured it was time you got up, seeing as you're at work and all…" she trailed off expectantly. "So, spill. Why the hell are you _sleeping_ at work?"

"I was, uh, up late," Grissom lied lamely.

A cocked eyebrow was her reply.

"Okay, fine. I was… out."

"Mhmm…"

"Doing a favour for a friend."

"You have other friends?"

Grissom glowered at her. "Oh, shut it."

"Still waiting, Gil."

"Fine. I was- babysitting."

Grissom grinned when he heard her jaw hit the floor. "You were _what_? No way. You?"

"Yes, me; for a neighbour."

"You _know _your neighbours?"

"Catherine."

"Shit, Grissom, babysitting? I think you need to take a vacation," Catherine grinned, immensely enjoying herself.

"Catherine." He looked at her with tired eyes. "I must have read one single story to her at least five hundred times. The damn kid wouldn't fall asleep."

"What was the story?"

"Uh… little miss… tuffet? No, that's not it…" Grissom's brow furrowed, and it was all Catherine could do to hold back her laughter. "Little Miss Tuffet… or maybe it was Muffet… or Puffet? What?" he asked indignantly when he looked up to spot his friend's nearly purple face.

Catherine choked on her laughter. "Muffet, Gil, muffet."

Grissom snapped his fingers. "I knew it was one of them," he muttered, his expression creating lines of concentration on his forehead.

"I never thought I'd see the day. Actually, I never thought it'd happen… at all. Hah."

"Give a guy a break."

"Have you eaten?"

"Uh-uh." His head rotated side to side almost imperceptibly.

Catherine jumped up. "I'll get you something." He protested, but by the time he did, she was halfway out the door.

**GC**

"I sure hope you still like Chinese, that was the closest thing to here."

"Mmm. Fine."

"Don't sound too enthusiastic," she said sarcastically, then thought. "God, I sound like your wife."

He had nothing to say to that.

For a full thirty seconds, two blue gazes were locked on each other. The only noise in the room was the sound of the ticking clock on the wall. Finally, Catherine swallowed, cleared her throat, dropped the bag on the desk, and averted her stare. "Here," she mumbled, "eat it. You need food. I'll see you later."

Grissom opened his mouth to reply, but she was gone in the blink of an eye.

_Brilliant, Doctor Grissom. You've done it now. _


	5. Because You're In Love With ME

_I'm finally done this story. Thanks guys, it's been fun. Y'all are awesome-amazing._

**V. Because You're In Love With ME**

"You can't get married."

"And why the hell not, Gil?" she shot back angrily, manicured hands on her wedding dress-clad hips.

Grissom's face was impassive. "Because."

"Because _why_?"

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, highlighting her features. Her anger was clearly visible. "I can't? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't march down that aisle and…" she faltered when he stepped closer, "… and get…. married."

His brow furrowed, as if he found it odd that she not know what he was talking about. "Because you're in love with me," he said simply, frowning.

As tempting as it was to laugh at his adorable expression, Catherine did not smile. "What? Are you insane? I am _not_. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when?"

"Since always," he said obviously, pinning her with an intense blue stare. She backed up until he had trapped her against the wall.

Catherine's heart hammered in her chest. "No- no, I'm… I'm not…" she protested, her voice much less convincing than she hoped it would be. "Gil--"

She was effectively cut off by his lips covering hers, sweet and demanding, her argument stopped in its tracks. She melted against him, her defences weakening quickly. His tongue probed her lips and they parted, giving him access to thoroughly explore her mouth.

It ended as soon as it began. He pulled back and stared at her. "That's why."

Catherine sagged against the wall and slid to the floor, her head in her arms crossed over her knees. She let out a shuddering breath.

"Mom?" Lindsay appeared in the doorway of the women's only room and frowned. "Mom, what's wrong? Uncle Gil?"

Grissom was quiet.

"Nothing, honey. I'm just- nothing," Catherine finished lamely. _If he's not going to fight, it's not worth it. It's not._

"Lindsay, I love your mother, and, deep down, I know she loves me too."

Catherine gaped at this, her expression completely opposite that of her daughter's.

"_Finally_!" the young teenager exclaimed. "I thought you two would never get it? Thank you, Uncle Gil, for knocking some sense into her, or whatever you did. Kissed, it looks like."

Catherine flushed red. "Lindsay-"

Lindsay ran and knelt by her side. "Come on, Mom. You know you do. How well do you even know Matt, anyway? Not at all compared to Grissom." She sighed heavily. "Please. Just think about it."

"Not lots of time for that," her mother replied dryly, smiling slightly at her daughter's hand on her shoulder. "What makes you such an expert all of a sudden?"

Lindsay's face grew serious. "Look at him, Mom."

Grissom was watching them, a mixture of sadness, adoration, and love in his ice-blue eyes. When Catherine finally looked up to meet his gaze, the shadows dissipated.

"That," Lindsay said gently, "is a man in love."

Catherine hugged her, tears in her eyes. "Oh, honey…" Lindsay helped her mother to her feet, and Catherine smiled one last time before disappearing from the room in a flurry of white.

**GC**

…_**3 Weeks Later…**_

"Who knew?"

Laughter rumbled in Grissom's chest as he glanced down at his strawberry-blonde wife sprawled in his lap. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Mmm," she murmured, kissing him lingeringly. "I guess so."

"Me!" Lindsay piped up, peeking in on them, darting forward, and vaulting herself onto the king-size bed, landing between her parents. "I knew all along, and don't you forget it. I'll remind you of this the rest of your very long lives, you know. You," she started, pointing to Grissom, "have loved my mom since, like, for_ever_, and mom, deep down, has always loved you _right_ back. She didn't recognize it most of the time, unfortunately," her pretty face contorted into a grimace, "but look where we ended up. Thank you, I'll be here all week." She grinned.

Catherine hauled her daughter in for a hug. "I love you, honey."

"I love you more," Lindsay answered immediately.

"I love you both the most," Grissom chuckled, tickling her side.

Lindsay sighed happily. "Well, you guys got your happily ever after. D'ya think I'll get mine someday?"

"Not anytime soon," Grissom and Catherine chorused, smiling at each other.


End file.
